Uncertainities
by Lucille Lee
Summary: A multi-chaptered Severus Snape and Hermione Granger romance set in an Alternate Universe in the 18th-19th century. But remembering that “familiarly breeds contempt”, it also includes a few other protagonists – like Lord Black.


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**UNCERTAINITIES **

_Lucille Lee _

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**SUMMARY:** A multi-chaptered Severus Snape and Hermione Granger romance set in an Alternate Universe in the 18th-19th century. But remembering that "familiarly breeds contempt", it also includes a few other protagonists – like Lord Black.

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**RATING: **K

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**DISCLAIMER TO COVER THE WHOLE STORY: The characters and the whole of Harry Potter Universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and I am only writing this story for pleasure and not making any monetary profit. No infringement intended.**

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_Chapter 1_

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Lady Granger looked on with some interest at the tall, handsome man who had just arrived. Her friend and hostess, Lady Galloway had told her that he would be the best suitor for her daughter – he was _extremely_ rich and would come in into a greater inheritance after the death of his uncle, who had no heir and was on very good terms with his only nephew. He was a man of power and fashion and much loved and admired in the society. He would be the best match her daughter, Hermione Granger, could get.

The daughter in concern, on the other hand, merely frowned as her mother indicated the man, Lord Black.

"I talked to him that time he came to our house, mother," said Hermione, "I don't like him."

Her mother was suitably shocked. "You shall _not_ go around with such _atrocious_ manners, young lady," Lady Granger chided her daughter in a low voice. "Now smile and make yourself _pleasant_."

Hermione just managed to stop herself from snapping. She wasn't a woman of calm and agreeable temperament – rather the contrary. However, she hated making 'scenes' and so she controlled herself.

As her mother was engrossed in talking to her friends some moments later, Hermione found the perfect opportunity to slip away. She had been greatly reluctant to come to this ball in the first place. But her mother… well, you know what _mothers_ are like. They never put up with one's tempers like fathers do. But Hermione's father didn't really tell her to do something or not to do something. He was a pleasant middle-aged man who let her do whatever she wished. Lady Granger blamed him for Hermione's "tartness".

"Miss Granger."

Hermione was slightly startled as the low whisper caressed her ears. However, she smiled as she recognized the familiar voice.

"Lord Snape."

Now this was a man she liked – cold, sarcastic, intelligent and infamous. A man who _never_ asked her to dance and yet managed to entertain her better than any of her books could.

"I was wondering if you were going to spend the whole evening by the _matriarch's_ side."

"I was waiting for _you_ to rescue me, sir. But since you failed in the attempt, I had to trouble myself."

Lord Snape glanced at Lady Granger, who had yet to acknowledge her daughter's absence. "Your mother despises and loathes me," he stated in an amused voice.

"Rightly so," said Hermione, grinning wickedly. "But you shall have _my_ loathing and contempt, sir, if you do not lead me out of this room immediately."

"Feeble threat, Miss Granger," he said, but soon they had left the congested ballroom.

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"My mother has most strange ideas," said Hermione as they walked down an unfamiliar dark corridor.

"I don't doubt it," he replied. "She would do much better in the Parliament."

Hermione shrugged. "Anywhere but interfering in my life."

"Privileges of a mother, Miss Granger, privileges of a mother."

"What about _your_ mother?" she asked suddenly.

"I have little memory of her."

She looked at him. His face was expressionless as ever. She knew that she ought to say that she was sorry… but with Lord Snape… she wasn't sure that he would take it in good taste.

Before her internal debate could be resolved, he said, "So what did your mother do now? I hope she hasn't decided to send you to Bath or something."

"She has found me... a suitor."

Lord Snape stopped suddenly and looked at her. Then he burst out laughing.

"I do not see what is so amusing," she said icily. "I have been rather troubled over this."

"Miss Granger," he said, once his fit of laughter had died down, "my condolences with you. It surprises me that something like a suitor would upset you."

"My father likes him, too," she said sulkily. "For God's sake! I am just twenty!"

"Nineteen," he said mildly.

"It doesn't make a pennyworth difference. Why should I have suitors?"

"Because you shall bring your husband a handsome dowry?"

"In any case," she continued – her mood darkening as she pursued the subject, "I am determined _not_ to marry."

"It would be a pity if you became 'the matriarch'," he agreed with a smirk.

"Don't use that word, sir. It annoys me."

"Enough talk about your matrimony, Miss Granger. Let us talk about more pleasant subjects. How did you like the book I had leant you?"

The conversation fell into its usual pace – books, music, people, politics, science, arts – anything and everything.

However, tonight, there was something else bothering Hermione. She had thought that he would notice. But he didn't. She had hoped that he would notice. But he didn't. She had wanted him to show interest in the prospective suitor. But he didn't. She had wanted to reach some conclusion concerning… concerning whatever there was between them – _if_ it was there. But she didn't.

"Will you be here for Christmas?" she asked all of a sudden, instead of replying to whatever he had asked.

"I am afraid I shall not, Miss Granger. I have to go down to my estates about this time."

"Can't you put off your work?" she persisted.

"As much as I shall miss your company, financial matters ought not to be ignored. You understand, of course?"

She didn't understand. She didn't understand anything at all.

"Of course," she replied. "Pauperism won't be quite becoming for you."

"No."

They came to a quiet garden. Lord Snape directed her to the periphery whence the forests began. Their host, Lord Galloway was Lord Snape's cousin. Hermione followed his lead without really considering their destination. They had been silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Earlier, Hermione would have called the silence they had fallen into "companionable" and enjoyed it.

But now, after the talk with Ginerva Weasley (who was better known as 'Ginny' among her peers), she couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"What kind of a place are your estates?"

"Just like every other place – there is the picturesque house, the grounds, the tenants, a church at some distance and some woods."

"Don't you like staying there?"

"I have no special feelings attached to it."

After a while, she said, "Shall we sit down for some time? I feel a headache coming on."

"On the grass? It must be damp from the shower the afternoon."

"It doesn't matter," she said and sat down on the protruding root of an oak. Tentatively, he followed her example.

She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes.

Lord Snape regarded her with a thoughtful look for some time. "Are you sure it is just a headache?"

"Yes."

"Shall we return to the house?"

"I am fine."

"I should not like you to fall ill. I shall come down to your manor with Boris and Wilhelmina before I leave."

She opened her eyes and, with a playful grin, said, "My mother won't like it."

"Wilhelmina and your mother are frightful gossips. Lady Granger shall put up with my presence on her account."

"She ought to put up with your presence on _my_ account."

"She is your mother, my dear."

Hermione's eyes were suddenly alight with determination. "I shall convince her to be cordial towards you!"

Lord Snape raised a brow. "Would you _like_ that?" he asked quietly. "Honestly now, Miss Granger."

"No," she said slowly, looking away from him.

"_I_ won't like that, either."

Hermione wondered. Yes, she wondered very much. Why should it be so? Was this… was this 'friendship' nothing more than a rebellion? Some sort of romance, she would have called it. But there was nothing romantic between them. They only talked… their interests were greatly similar although he always had a stronger opinion than she had. He would tell her of his journeys sometimes. He had been a great traveller for some years. In any case, he had never even touched her – never offered an arm, never even brushed against her accidentally.

"Shall we go back?"

Maybe the uncertainty and curiosity of their position perturbed him, too. She nodded and got up.

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Fortunately, Hermione and her mother left soon after. Hermione couldn't risk having a conversation with Lord Black now. It would be embarrassing if she _snapped_ at him.

However, she didn't see Lord Snape after he had brought her back to the ballroom.

"Hermione!"

Lady Granger, of course, was _furious_ with her.

"Yes, mother?" asked Hermione, knowing what was coming.

"I told you to keep away from that man – Lord Snape."

"I wasn't with him – not the whole time," she lied unblushingly. "You teach me not to be rude. I couldn't very well just turn him away if he talked to me."

"It is all right to be rude to men like him," was the dark reply. "Remember that next time."

"There won't be a next time, mother."

Lady Granger softened a little. "That will be even better."

After some time, Hermione touched the topic once again, "Why do you hate him, mother?"

"He is a wicked man," answered her mother shortly.

"What sort of a wicked man? How do you know?"

"Wilhelmina has told me all about him. He has a shady past and even his present situations are doubtful. You ought not to talk with such men. How many times should I tell you?"

Hermione wondered how true Lady Galloway's allegations were. Lord Snape never talked about himself although he knew everything about her by now. He usually put off the topic if the conversation turned towards it. Hermione, who didn't like to appear meddlesome, didn't question him. All in all, she knew little about this fascinating dark "stranger".

"Lord Galloway would not allow him in his house if Lord Snape was a wicked man, mother," said Hermione.

That was reasonable. Lady Granger seemed to consider her opinion. "I don't like that man," she declared after a while. "I feel that Lord Black doesn't like him either."

Hermione very much wanted to retort that _she _didn't like Lord Black, but she kept quiet. She wondered why exactly she didn't like Lord Black – was it for the same reason Ginny had said that she didn't?

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The next morning, like every morning, Ginny came to the Granger Manor.

Lady Granger liked the beautiful red-headed girl. In fact, even if Ginny had not been the intelligent and well-mannered girl she was, Lady Granger would have allowed her to visit Hermione. Miss Granger was sadly lacking in the social department.

"How was last night, Hermione?" asked Ginny excitedly as soon as they were on their own.

Hermione lay down on the divan. "I am feeling very ill, Ginny. Can you not sit quietly?"

"Was it that bad?"

"I don't know what you mean," replied Hermione shortly.

"You know what I mean. Does Lord Snape really not love you?"

"It is a preposterous suggestion, Ginny – I told you yesterday that there is nothing between the two of us."

"So why do you always leave off with him whenever you go to any gathering at Galloway House – and you did say that he is the only person you talk to when you are at someone else's place. And…"

"Because he really is the only person who doesn't bore me to death – every relationship between male and female strangers is not romantic."

"Not _every_," agreed Ginny. "But what is Lord Snape to you then? There must be some sort of relationship. It is only logical."

"My head is really paining, Ginny," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Please draw the curtains; I think I will lie down a little."

Ginny looked really concerned now. Hermione was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Covering her up, she went to get Lady Granger.

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Lord Snape absent-mindedly fingered his cuffs. As soon as he had set eyes on the serious, aloof Miss Granger, he knew that there was something different about this girl. He had been proved right. She was the most intelligent of his acquaintances and there was something about her which… which set him at his ease. It was a rare occurrence that he found being around people was comfortable. But the disinterested look she had given him at their introduction, even when she knew all about how rich he was, made her a part of his thoughts.

An idle romance in the country – he was used to it… for his amusement. But there was something about her which dissuaded him from even asking her to dance. Somehow, he didn't want her to scorn him. And he knew only too well that she would scorn him if he treated her feelings lightly.

He knew her too well, maybe. He knew which books she preferred. He knew her choices in everything trivial – flowers, food, colours and even what sort of hats she liked. It was only on contemplation one morning that he realized the fact – he knew her too well.

And yesterday? All that had changed yesterday. She had mentioned a 'suitor'. It had startled him at first, but he had casually laughed it off. But it perturbed him still. Why would she talk about suitors to him?

He could think of only one reason. She was in love with him.

That was extremely unexpected. When he had begun… whatever there was between them… he had done so in trust that there would be no "feelings" between them. Just a few sporty trysts. He had sensed her to be as indifferent as he was to such emotions.

But her looks and gestures and words last night all pointed to the fact that she was in love with him. He had engaged in only too many escapades to read the signs.

"Why are you scowling early in the morning, Severus?" asked Lord Galloway as he entered the library.

"I was thinking about some… unpleasant matters. I wish to think some more," replied Lord Snape meaningfully.

"Is it Miss Granger?"

"Maybe."

"You should have listened to me when I told you to stay away from that girl."

"She seemed like a sensible girl – a perfect intellectual companion. Admittedly, I had never met any woman like her before – ever."

"That was _exactly_ why I told you to leave the girl alone. I supposed you have messed everything up."

"No," said the dark man shortly, standing up, "not yet. However, since I have no desire of parting on bitter terms from her, I am leaving today."

"It would be wise, yes," said Lord Galloway, lighting his cigarette. "Miss Granger is not someone for you. She is too naïve for all her airs."

"I know that," replied Lord Snape dryly as he went out.

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Hermione sat on the chaise lounge in the studio. Although it had just been mild fever, her mother had forbidden her from studying or going out for a walk.

She wasn't supposed to be here, lonely, she thought somewhat irate. Lord Snape was to come here today with the Galloways. But he didn't. He had departed three days ago. She didn't want to believe it. How could he lie to her? Lord Galloway had said something about "urgent business" but she knew better than to believe it.

Lady Galloway remarked that she didn't think he would come back for quite a few years. He had said something to that effect.

Hermione, effectively faking illness, had escaped. She didn't want to listen to such horrible lies anymore.

But sitting here by herself, she couldn't help but think that it was all true. What would they gain by lying? What could Lord Snape have wanted to gain by lying? She couldn't say. She knew nothing about him. Heck, she didn't even know his first name. He was just 'Lord Snape'… just Lord Snape…

And yet, so much more.

"Hermione?"

Light footsteps on the floor and then the candles flickered to life.

"What are you doing here, Ginny?"

"I heard about Lord Snape."

"He's gone for good, isn't he?"

Hermione couldn't keep the bitterness away from her voice.

"He was a wicked, wicked man. You'd do well to forget about him."

"You were right. I am in love with him."

"You weren't," said Ginny sternly. "It was a mere infatuation. You aren't going to go all love-sick over him."

Hermione glanced at the red-head. "You are right."

"Of course, I am. Let's go out for a walk."

"I am not feeling up to it."

"Nonsense. You cannot sit here thinking about that man. He does not deserve it."

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"Snape? I thought you we were not to see you in London until next Easter."

Lord Snape made no reply, but only lit a cigar.

"Not that I am complaining," said Lord Malfoy, sitting down opposite him. "I was beginning to look forward to a very dull winter with Black and you away from the city at this time."

"Do not put me in the same sentence with Black," hissed out Lord Snape.

Lord Malfoy merely raised a brow. "You shall always be my favourite, you know. Especially now that Lord Black has ideas about settling down."

"I do not wish to discuss Black or any of his affairs. If you wish to, I suggest you talk to one of his sycophants."

"I would rather not discuss Black, then. He shall not remain an object of interest once he has a wife controlling him. Anyway, how was your stay in Warfield?"

"I was not in Warfield."

"No? Ah, yes… my son has gone to Warfield. So you were at…?"

"Grascorty. I do not wish to discuss that, either."

"Grascorty? Well, well, well, I can quite understand why you do not wish to talk about it. I suppose you met Black there."

Rolling his cigar between his forefinger and thumb, Lord Snape raised an inquisitive brow.

"That's where Black has gone off to – with Lupin, I think."

…"_She has found me... a suitor."…_

"Black means to marry someone in Grascorty?" asked Lord Snape, his voice growing dangerous.

"I suppose so – I thought we were not talking about Black."

"Do you know the name of the woman?"

"I don't know… might be one of the Grangers or Hiltons. Lupin is acquainted with both of those families."

Throwing down his cigar, Lord Snape got up and before Malfoy could say another word, he had gone out of the club.

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Hermione sat on the window-sill, looking out at the quiet night. It was the Christmas Eve. The Weasleys, Hiltons and Brightons were here for celebrations – the four families always celebrated together on Christmas Eve.

There was a lot of noise and chaos as there always was. Hermione didn't usually join the hustle and bustle, but preferred being by herself. It had been so ever since she was a little child. She couldn't see why it should change.

"Hermione, would you dance with me?"

Ishmael Hilton stood before her, smiling. Along with Ron, Ginny's youngest elder brother, Ishmael had been one of her best friends ever since she was a little girl. This was his last Christmas in Grascorty. He would be leaving to teach English in Madame Tardieu in Lyon this spring.

She returned his smile and accepted the outstretched hand.

"You seem worried, Hermione."

"It's nothing," she said, looking at their joined hands.

"You shall never learn to lie properly, Miss Granger. Shall I make a guess? Is this about Lord Black?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "Well… maybe."

"I have not met the man, I admit," said Ishmael, "but I am sure that Lord Granger would never allow you to marry a man who was not worthy of you. Although, I must say it is strange that you will be married soon. I can never think of you but as the little girl who screamed when I dangled little worms near her face."

Hermione made a face. "You were always a filthy little boy – worse than Weasley twins. I have not really talked to Lord Black except exchange some formal pleasantries."

"Whatever you do, Hermione, you must marry someone you love."

Ishmael's voice was quiet and he glanced momentarily in the direction of Ginny Weasley – his unrequited love.

Hermione followed his gaze and sighed softly, pressing his hand.

That moment, she made up her mind to forget all about Lord Snape. Ishmael was right. She had begun disliking Lord Black even without having a decent conversation with him. She would certainly give him a chance – and if he was as good as her mother always told her, then who knows she might even marry him.

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